Goodnight, Sweetheart
by pinkbrat08
Summary: CAUTION: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR SERIES THREE EP. 1 and 2 What happens when Sherlock is left with John and Mary's baby for the weekend? Swooning and romance, of course!
1. Chapter 1

**Wow...this story is so old, so I had to add Tom into the mix...however with episode two, my prompt now completely works! Sorta... hope you like it!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sherlock or anything Sherlock related. If I did, Season three wouldn't have taken so long to come out!**

**{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{S H}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH} {SH}{SH}**

At the last minute, and as a last resort, John and Mary had given Sherlock the responsibility of babysitting Stephanie. Neither parent really wanted to leave her with Sherlock, but they were out of options. The only comfort they had was knowing Mrs. Hudson was downstairs to help if need be.

"Mary has already mixed the formula for her dinner bottle, but you'll need to mix one for supper. We've left all you need to know on this list," John handed Sherlock the list, a diaper bag, a strange rectangular box, and a suitcase containing Stephanie's clothes. "Mrs. Hudson is downstairs if you need anything, but she is a little under the weather, so only in an emergency. And... thanks, again, for doing this."

"I did not agree to do this. You showed up, and seeing as Mary's mother is gravely ill, based on the disheveled state she's in and the fact she keeps checking her phone for updates, I assumed you wouldn't leave me with a choice."

"No tact." John sighed. "Anyways, we should be back in a few days. I'll text you and let you know once we get there. Don't do anything stupid like bring Steph to a crime scene. She's barely 4 months, and she doesn't need that."

"I only take a case if it's a seven. I doubt any will present itself in the time you are gone, so there is no need for you to worry."

"Well, I think you're good to go. We'll be off then."

"John, don't I need to actually have Stephanie in order to 'babysit' her?"

"Right, sorry. I'm still a little nervous at leaving her with you. Here," John handed Stephanie over to Sherlock.

"Now I'll just... I'll leave. Bye Stephanie!"

Sherlock looked down at the baby he now held. What on earth was he supposed to do with it? He didn't know the first thing about taking care of another human being. How often did normal people need to eat? Hopefully all he needed to know would be on the list.

Two hours later found Sherlock sitting on the couch, awkwardly holding Stephanie while trying to feed her. She had been crying for at least 30 minutes now, but she didn't seem to take a significant amount of formula out of the bottle. Having read the list three times already in search of an answer, he did what he did best.

"Mrs. Hudson!" He waited, and yelled again, "Mrs. Hudson!" Exasperated at the lack of response he was receiving, he knew there was only one other option.

He then flipped out his phone, and proceeded to text Molly, his other option.

I need your assistance. Come to the flat immediately.

-SH

What do you need help with?

-M

It doesn't matter. The door should be unlocked. Come straight up.

-SH

Okay. I'll be right over.

-M

As it turned out, the door wasn't unlocked. Molly rang the doorbell a few times and waited. Sherlock quickly set Stephanie on the couch and bounded down the stairs to open the door. The faster Molly got here, the faster the detestable thing would stop crying. Really, why would anyone willingly put up with this?

"So.. Uh, w-what is it? That you needed help with, I mean."

"Follow me. The problem is upstairs."

"Oh. Okay."

She willingly followed. Reaching the flat, she immediately noticed to diaper bag sitting on the floor by the coffee table. Sherlock stood looking down at the couch. As she peered closer she noticed the baby. Immediately recognizing her, She rushed over and picked Stephanie up.

"Oh, Sherlock! You can't just leave a baby lying on the couch! She could've easily rolled off and hurt herself!"

"It won't stop crying."

Well that's Sherlock Holmes for you. Straight to the point, Molly thought. Why on earth would John let Sherlock watch her? It must have been a real emergency, especially since normally any one of Mary's friends or family could have taken her.

"Have you tried feeding her?"

"Yes, of course I have. John had prepared a bottle ahead of time. It didn't eat much." Sherlock rolled his eyes at the mundane question. What did she think he was? An idiot?

"First of all, she has a name, so stop referring to her as it. Second, did you warm the bottle?" Molly surprised herself. Where did that confidence come from?

"Yes. John left very thorough instruction as to what I was supposed to do with it - her - as to feeding, but she doesn't seem to respond to my prodding."

"Alright, does she maybe need to be changed?"

"Changed?" Molly could briefly see the look of pure confusion on Sherlock's face as he said this, but he quickly resumed his impassive facade. Molly checked her diaper, and sure enough that was the problem.

"Yes, her diaper needs to be changed." Sherlock just stared at her. Molly sighed, "Can you hand me the diaper bag, please?" Again, Sherlock just stared at her, but this time with an underlying look of 'can't you get it yourself?' "Look, if you want me to help you then you need to help me. Now, can you please just get me her diaper bag?"

Already, Molly was getting frustrated with Sherlock. Having Sherlock live with her while he took down Moriarty's network had been a pain, and she had quickly learned that living with Sherlock was like living with a five year old. Albeit, she did still have feelings for him, but they definitely didn't affect her the way they used to. Yes, occasionally she would stutter in his presence, but not as often. She really was proud of herself for not letting Sherlock push her around anymore.

In the time these thoughts circled around her head, Sherlock had set the bag down in front of Molly. She shook herself out of her reverie. Slowly she kneeled down on the carpet. Balancing Stephanie in one arm, she layed down a thin blanket from the bag. Then she gently set her down on the blanket, and began to unbutton her onesie. Sherlock observed from above, not wanting to get any closer.

Once she was finished, she looked up at Sherlock, "Do you think you can do that on your own next time?" She stood back up and looked Sherlock in the eye.

"Yes. I believe I can, it was a simple enough process that I will be able to remember how to do it the next time this problem arises. One question though, why is she still crying?" He had a smug look on his face as if to say 'you didn't fix the problem either.'

"Maybe she needs a nap? Babies need a lot of sleep. All you have to do is rock her. Side to side and up and down." She demonstrated for him, "Sort of like that." She handed the baby back to Sherlock, making sure she was secure in his arms before letting her go. The close contact caused Molly to become embarrassed and blush.

Sherlock exhibited all he had learned by rocking Stephanie slowly from side to side, gently bouncing her in his arms. "Like this?"

"Yes, like that." The sight of Sherlock rocking a baby made Molly want to swoon, it was more than she could handle. Seeing as Sherlock had a grasp on taking care of her, she tried to excuse herself, "Well, now that you've got the hang of it. I best be going. I've got to work tomorrow, early shift so I need to get to bed."

But Sherlock would have none of that, "You really are a terrible liar. Tomorrow is Saturday, you don't work. It's perfectly fine for you to stay here this weekend while I watch Stephanie."

"You're just asking me to stay so I will watch Steph! If you think I'm getting up in the middle of the night to give her a bottle or change her, then you're wrong. John gave you the responsibility, now deal with it. Besides, I'm sure Tom is waiting for me. I'm going home." She made her way to the door, putting her coat on along the way.

An audible sigh came from Sherlock at the mention of Tom, "Please. Stay with me while I take care of her. Obviously you are better prepared for taking care of a child. We can switch off during the night. I won't make you get up with her every time."

Molly seriously considered leaving, but then she saw the pleading look in Sherlock's eyes. That was not a look she had been on the receiving end of very often, she only got it when Sherlock was desperate for help. Although she had sworn to herself that she was through giving in to Sherlock, a few more seconds of staring into his eyes and she was hopeless. It's not like Tom couldn't survive on his own for the night. She would just tell him she was at one of her girlfriend's for the weekend.

She sighed, and finally conceded, "Alright. I'll stay, but if you don't keep your word, believe me I'll leave. And I'll need to retrieve some clothes from my flat." He nodded at her proposal, and continued rocking Stephanie.

She fell asleep rather quickly, which left Sherlock confused as to what to do next. He looked to Molly for guidance, "What do I do now that she's asleep? If I can't put her on the couch, where should I put her. She's certainly not sleeping in my bed."

"Didn't John leave a collapsible crib? It should be about this big," she gestured about the size of the rectangular box, Sherlock thought.

"Yes, I believe he might have. Would that be it there?" He looked in the direction of the rest of Stephanie's things by the door.

"That is it. Now, we have to set it up." She looked to Sherlock as she started to unzip the bag. "Let me rephrase that. I need to set it up while you just stand there making sure Steph doesn't wake up."

Molly started to unfold the crib, and within a matter of minutes it was set up. It really wasn't that hard if you put your mind to it, and follow the instructions she thought. "Where should we put the crib?"

Sherlock seemed to think for a moment before replying, "My room, I suppose. That way at night it will be more convenient to reach her should she resume fussing."

"Which leads to my next question, where am I sleeping? I'm assuming John's old room?"

"No, I turned that room into a lab the minute he left."

"On the couch then?"

"Don't be daft, Molly. You can sleep in my room, I'm sure it's perfectly adequate. Better than your bedroom."

Molly turned a deep shade of red, "W-with...you?" She managed to squeak out.

He sighed, getting frustrated at her incompetence. "Where else would you have me sleep? Really, Molly. Must you always ask such stupid questions?"

Molly knew he didn't realize what he said, and he knew he didn't mean that he thought she was stupid, but his words still hurt. Even after helping him fake his death, and sharing a flat with him (for far too long in her opinion), he didn't manage to stop his rude comments. Would he ever realize how much his words hurt everyone around him. Sure, it was okay to insult Anderson, he was a prat to begin with. But insulting his friends? Even if he claimed he didn't have friends, he did, and he insulted them on a regular basis.

Molly took a deep breath to calm herself. There was no point in getting mad at him, he didn't know what he did was wrong. Really, sometimes he was like an eight year old. "Alright. I'll go put it back there then."

He followed Molly as she slowly made her way to his room. It was a painful process for Molly. She didn't want to bump the walls or knock anything over, so she went at turtle's pace. Finally in his room, she set the crib down at the foot of his bed. Sherlock gently placed Stephanie down in the crib successfully managing to not wake her in the process.

The rest of the afternoon passed by with ease. Stephanie woke from her nap, took her bottle and was satisfied to play with her toys on the floor while Molly watched her. Sherlock it seemed had disappeared to his lab to work on some case or other. Molly figured there wasn't really a point to getting mad at him for leaving, Steph was doing fine, no fussing, so she didn't mind being the only one watching her. However, as it got closer to Stephanie's bedtime, she did start to get fussy. She had just had her bottle, and had been changed, so she knew it was coming, and like most babies started to resist sleep. There was nothing she could do to calm Stephanie, so she did the only thing left to try, sing. The only lullaby she could think of was Goodnight Sweetheart. She can still remember her father singing it to her when she had bad dreams and it always soothed her.

Unknown to her, Sherlock had just been coming from his make-shift lab when he heard Molly singing. He stopped before entering the room, wanting to hear the whole song, and not wanting to have the responsibility of putting Stephanie to bed. The song obviously had some sentimental value to her. It was probably a song her parents used to sing to her. She really did have a nice voice, she wasn't off key, and it was clearly pacifying the baby. He saved the lyrics in his mind palace, they might come in handy when it was his turn to put the baby to sleep.

Soon, the song was over, and the baby was asleep. Sherlock went back up a few steps, cleared his throat and continued back down to the living room. Molly had sat down after finishing her song, and looked over at Sherlock as he entered the room. She put a finger to her lips in an effort to keep him quiet.

She whispered to him across the room, "She just fell asleep, so be quiet. I'll put her in her crib in a bit, I just want to make sure she's sound asleep."

Sherlock nodded, and proceeded to make tea. Just before the kettle started to whistle, he took it off the stove. Pouring two cups for Molly and himself, and making them just the way they liked it. He set a cup down in front of Molly.

She whispered again, "I'm going to put her in her crib, I'll be back in a sec." When she returned, she looked appreciatively at the tea, and then at Sherlock, "Thanks, for this."

"Well, you have been helping me with Stephanie, I figured it was the least I could do." Literally the least he could do, Molly thought. But, she supposed, it was the thought that counts. And for Sherlock, that was a pretty big thought, he rarely thought of others. So, Molly decided to appreciate the small gesture.

Molly realized Stephanie would probably get up a few times during the night, and even if Sherlock was going to switch on and off with her, she knew she would still be tired in the morning. So, after saying goodnight to Sherlock, she went to bed. It was odd to not be in her own bed. The smell of Sherlock was overpowering, and she had a hard time getting to sleep. Just as she finally managed to fall asleep, she felt Sherlock crawl into bed. It took her quite a while after that to relax again. She kept telling herself there was no reason to overreact, and then she realized he didn't have any trousers on. She felt guilty at the thought of her being in a bed with the man she used to be in love with, while she was engaged to another man.

After a minor freak out, Molly managed to calm herself down. Like Sherlock had said before, the body is only transport, there was no need to act like this. With that thought in mind, she managed to sleep peacefully. It had been a long day, and she deserved to rest. Luckily for her, Stephanie only got up once in the middle of the night, and it was Sherlock's turn to soothe her. Stephanie was fairly cooperative for Sherlock, fortunately, so she went back to sleep quickly after a bottle and being changed.

The last thing Molly registered was feeling Sherlock climb into bed before she fell back into a deep, restful sleep. Sherlock, unusually did not have thoughts before eventually falling asleep, which he thought was very odd indeed. Some brilliant idea almost always came to him when he was about to rest, which was why he forwent sleeping on a regular basis. However, considering the circumstances, he figured it was for the best that he slept as much as possible.

**{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{S H{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{ SH}{SH}**

**So how'd you like it? Why don't you tell me in a review? The button's right there! It'll only take a few seconds! You know you want to! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys! So, am I the only one who thinks that Loo and Benedict should get married? I think they'd have the cutest kids ever! Anyways here's another chapter for you! Hope you enjoy it. **

**Again, I don't own Sherlock, unfortunately. If I did, Molly would break off her engagement with Tom, and Sherlock would snatch her up!**

**{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{S H}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH} {SH}{SH}**

The next morning, Molly woke up very warm. It took her a few moments to register that someone's arms were around her. And that someone was Sherlock bloody Holmes! She slowly turned, only to come face to face with a very awake Sherlock.

"You move far too much in your sleep, Molly. You were impairing my thought process." He stated as he retracted his arms and moved to get up. "Try not to move so much during the course of your stay here. I still have cases I'm working on, even if I don't leave the house for them."

"Right, of course. I'll try to stay still next time."

Of course, she would never question him. She was all too delighted to wake up in his arms. Hadn't she been dreaming about it since she had first set eyes on him? She hadn't exactly foreseen these circumstances, however she would lavish in the feeling for now. Sherlock's bed was comfier than hers, and she had slept like a rock last night. One of the best sleeps she's had in a long time, and waking up in Sherlock's arms had made it even better. Wait! What was she thinking? She was engaged to Tom now, she shouldn't be lavishing in this experience, even if she did feel safe and warm in Sherlock's arms.

She slowly shook herself out of the dreamlike state she had woken up in, and began to get ready. No doubt Stephanie would get up soon, so Molly only had a little time to get ready. She grabbed the bag of clothes she retrieved from her flat the day before and retreated into the bathroom to change. Sure enough, as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, Stephanie started to wake up, crying for a bottle. Quickly, she scooped Stephanie into her arms, and walked into the kitchen to prepare a bottle.

The morning went relatively smooth. Stephanie was not a fussy baby, and she wasn't known to cry often. Sherlock disappeared miraculously when Stephanie needed changing. No cases had been presented to him, but he always found an excuse. 'I need to check on my cultures.' Things like that. Molly didn't really mind though, of course she didn't. How could she? She had woken up in a pleasant mood, if not entirely for good reasons, and she found no reason to spoil it. Sherlock was being very helpful otherwise, and that's all she could ask for.

Later in the afternoon, Molly decided it would be nice to go for a walk with Stephanie. It wasn't too chilly out, but Molly thought it would be best to bundle up nonetheless. After wrapping Steph up, she headed to Sherlock's lab. Opening the door, she could see Sherlock peering into the microscope at one of his cultures. No doubt an experiment on how fast flesh rots, or something like that. She slowly entered, wondering what sort of mood he was in. Hopefully, he would consent to joining them on their walk. Sherlock couldn't stay cooped up in the house for this long. She steeled herself for any scathing comments that might come her way if he became too annoyed, and walked in.

"Sherlock?"

Without looking from his microscope she heard a soft, "Hmm?"

She took a breath, "I was planning on taking Steph for a walk." She hesitated, "Would you like to... to join us?"

He finally broke eye contact with the sample to look up at Molly. Truth be told, he hadn't heard a word she had said, but that was no problem for the consulting detective. A quick sweep of Molly and he saw everything he needed to know. Scarf, hat, coat, jacket, and Stephanie was bundled up. Obviously they were going out for a walk.

"You would like me to join you on a walk." More of a statement than a question.

Molly nodded her head in confirmation. Sherlock tilted his head, honestly considering the offer. Molly was just about to give up hope when he nodded his head.

"Yes, I'll join you. I do believe a walk would be helpful in clearing my head, as it were. It might actually help me with this experiment I'm working on." Molly couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips at hearing that, and Sherlock couldn't help but notice.

Donning his signature scarf and Belstaff at the front door, he waited impatiently as Molly unsuccessfully tried to put on her wellies; She was having a difficult time balancing Stephanie at the same time. Sherlock sighed, and took Stephanie while Molly got ready. Molly looked up at Sherlock, he looked relatively comfortable holding Stephanie, even though he had only just learned how to properly hold a baby yesterday.

"Alright, we can go now. Sorry, I'll take her back." Molly reached for Stephanie, but Sherlock turned his body so she couldn't reach her. Thinking it odd, but not questioning it, she shrugged and walked out the door.

It was a bit nippy out, and Molly was glad she had wrapped Steph up. They walked in companionable silence for what seemed like an eternity until Sherlock finally spoke.

"Thank you, for helping me with Stephanie. It would seem you are useful for something besides cadavers after all." Molly was a little hurt by that comment, but she knew it must have taken Sherlock a lot to work up to saying thank you.

"You're welcome. Although," she chuckled, "I think your thanks could have done without the last bit." She knew better than to scold him or joke about his comments, but she did it regardless. So it was her own fault when Sherlock stopped talking completely, sulking like a ten year old.

The silence continued until an older woman came up to them. "What an adorable little baby you have. I just had to come over and say hello. You don't see many young families out nowadays." Before either could refute her statement she asked, "How old is she?"

Molly quickly responded before Sherlock could make any rude deductions, "Almost 9 months." She smiled at the woman, and gave Sherlock a look that said don't say anything rude.

"Oh how nice. Well, I'll leave you three be. It was nice meeting you." Before she left she whispered to Molly, "You keep him close, eh? He's quite a catch, dear."

Molly flushed red, and looked to Sherlock. He questioningly glanced at her. "Oh, no... I." But she had already walked off, muttering to herself, "such an adorable family."

Sherlock didn't inquire after the older woman's secretive comment to Molly. He simply continued walking, Stephanie happily gurgling in his arms, leaving Molly alone to her thoughts. She blushed at the thought that people might mistake them for a family. It certainly was a mistake, though. Sherlock was married to his work, on a regular basis insulted her (although he was getting a bit better), and he had no interest in anyone, male or female. And she was an engaged woman, for crying out loud! Once they arrived back at home, Sherlock handed Stephanie back to Molly, and hastily retreated to his lab. Left to her own devices, Molly warmed a bottle for Steph, and made a cuppa for herself.

Later that evening, Molly had put Stephanie to bed and was watching telly when Sherlock walked in.

"Molly, I need you to go to the morgue and bring me two legs. One female, one male; preferably both around the age of 35 to 40."

"Sherlock, I can't just leave to go get you body parts! I've got to watch Steph, since you obviously forfeited that responsibility to me. Which, frankly, was not part of our deal."

"I will watch Stephanie while you're gone. She's in bed now, so it can't be that difficult. There shouldn't be any problems in the short time you are away."

"I forgot my card, so I can't get in anyways." She watched as Sherlock moved to retrieve her coat from the coat rack.

Sherlock noticed Molly's slight hesitation, and watched as she averted her eyes. "You're lying. You have an extra card in your coat pocket in case you happen to forget your other one at home, knowing that you always bring your coat. Now, it will only take you a short time to get me my legs." Sherlock now held out Molly's coat, motioning for her to get up and don her coat.

Molly huffed, but pushed herself up from her comfortable position. She saw Sherlock smirk slightly as she put on the coat he held out for her.

"Fine, I'll go get your legs, but I'm warning you, if Stephanie is crying and you're up in your lab ignoring her, I'm going to be miffed!"

She left quickly, and tried to be as fast as possible, but thanks to traffic, that wasn't going to happen. She told the cabbie to wait as she ran in to grab the legs. Hopefully Sherlock hadn't burned the house down in the process of ignoring Stephanie's cries. On arriving back at the flat, she noticed that the light in Sherlock's lab was off. So he had kept his promise after all.

She quietly climbed the stairs, trying not to be so loud she woke Stephanie up. Just as she was about to walk through the door, she heard what she thought was someone singing. But wait, that couldn't be right. Sherlock was the only one in the flat with Steph, there's no way he would be singing. Slowly and quietly, Molly entered the flat. There was no sign of Sherlock in the front room. She listened again, and heard the singing coming from the bedroom. On walking closer, she realized that yes it was Sherlock singing.

Molly was completely gobsmacked. As she listened closer, she recognized the tune he was singing as the very same song she had sung to Stephanie the night before. He sounded much better than she did. He wasn't off key, and his low, baritone voice fit the song better than her voice. She dreamily stood by the door, and listened; this was obviously a one-time thing, and this was something she definitely wanted to remember forever. Molly didn't register when the song came to an end, and she didn't hear Sherlock's approaching steps either. Molly did, however, register coming face to chest with Sherlock. Molly blushed bright red and backed away, albeit awkwardly, from Sherlock.

Sherlock tried to keep the conversation as normal as possible, despite the fact that they both knew what he had just done. He cleared his throat, "Did you retrieve the body parts like I asked?"

Molly stammered to respond, "Y..yes. I, um, I got the... the legs. Yes." She nodded, but internally she was berating herself for letting a little thing like this cause her to revert back to stuttering in front of him.

Sherlock sighed, "Molly, I thought you had gotten over stuttering in front of me."

"Yes, of course. I just... well, it's just I. Never mind." She retrieved a plastic bag with the legs in it from her purse and handed them over to Sherlock.

"Ah! Thank you Molly." He smiled, "Now if you don't mind, I would like some tea. I'll be in my lab."

Molly obediently made the tea, all the while wondering why Sherlock had sung to begin with. Why not just play his violin? Surely he had thought of that. Perhaps he had a reason, but Molly was not going to be the one to question him. She had already turned into a blabbering mess once, and she was not going to do it again. The kettle screamed as the water boiled, and she poured two cups; one for herself and one for Sherlock.

Carrying the two tea cups, she slowly and carefully walked to Sherlock's lab. She nudged the door open with her foot, and entered the room. She set the tea cup down in front of him, and cleared her throat. He looked up at her, then down at the tea cup, and back to the legs.

Molly studied him for awhile, watching the way he analyzed his experiment. She sipped her tea as she observed him in his natural habitat. He looked comfortable, and at ease, she really did enjoy watching him work. Sherlock had noticed that Molly was still there even though she had delivered his tea and had no other reason to be there. She was quite distracting, and he was perplexed as to why that may be. She had never been this distracting at St. Barts. What was so different now?

"Molly, you're being distracting. Would you mind leaving the lab? I need to work on this."

"No, I don't mind. I know you need to work. Sorry, I'll just... leave."

Sherlock noticed the way her shoulders drooped and the way she looked down at her feet, clearly disappointed, and feeling self conscious now that he had stated that she was a distraction. He also noticed the tone in her voice, and knew she was lying when she said she didn't mind. Why all this bothered him, he didn't know, but he needed her out of the room if he was going to figure it out. She left the room in the same dejected looking manner, and he felt slight guilt at what he had said to her.

It was relatively quiet when she left, and Sherlock found himself contemplating his situation. Surely he didn't have feelings for her like John always assumed. He had always prided himself on the fact that he cared for no one. Caring is a disadvantage. Why should he care about anyone? It's what got him into a mess in the first place.

But, he reasoned with himself, Molly would be an ideal candidate to care for. She could take care of herself, she wasn't a sniveling idiot. She was strong, caring, and now that she didn't stutter anymore she was much more tolerable, he supposed. No! He couldn't care for her! There was just no way. She was his mousy pathologist from St. Bart's, she wasn't someone he fancied, he was already married to his work, and she was affianced. Wait. When did he start calling her his pathologist? Sherlock began to feel very frustrated at the fact that he couldn't figure out what was going on in his mind. He delved deeper into his mind palace. On seeing a whole room devoted to Molly, he was perplexed. Since when did anyone have their own room? Hours passed while he searched for an answer, but he became more and more frustrated with himself.

Long after Molly had gone to bed, she felt Sherlock climb into bed beside her. He didn't get under the covers, so he obviously wasn't tired. She tried to get back to sleep, but she could hear him murmuring to himself, and she found it difficult not to concentrate on what he was saying. He was obviously irked, probably about a case, she thought. But no, she heard words every now and again that would suggest it was something else. Words like emotions, feelings, sentiment. She was so confused, why was he dwelling on things he claimed not to have. She stopped caring as she slowly became more and more drowsy. Eventually she drifted off to sleep.

Sherlock had been contemplating his options. It was now blatantly obvious to him that he had feelings for Molly, and that there was no way to escape them. He just didn't know what to do about them. He needed John's expertise in this area as he was completely in the dark. He glanced down at Molly, who was now asleep again. He saw the tiny tendrils of hair escaping the braid she had put them into, now framing her face. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep, a lot less anxious and less self-conscious.

Without realizing what he was doing, he found himself unbuttoning his shirt and climbing under the covers. Wrapping himself around Molly, he closed his eyes wondering how he might explain his actions off to Molly in the morning. Unfortunately for him, he didn't have until morning to come up with an appropriate excuse. It seemed that all his movement had awakened Molly.

"Sh...Sherlock?" Molly was extremely nervous upon waking up to Sherlock's bare chest against her back.

"Hmm?" He really didn't want her to question him.

"What's... are you alright? I mean... Um, I wasn't moving again was I? We could always put some pillows between us, if it... if it disturbs you that much." She was trying to avoid this as much as possible. This wasn't fair to Tom!

Sherlock was at a loss for words, which was a first for him. He rattled his mind palace for something to say, but he couldn't think of anything. For a moment he thought that silence may be the best approach, but eventually decided that the truth was the only way to go.

"No. I, uh." He cleared his throat, this was embarrassing, "I sleep better like this, it comforts me to know you're so close, and...safe." If it hadn't have been so dark, Molly clearly would have seen Sherlock's face turn beet red.

But she herself turned red at his confession. She had to be dreaming. Pinching herself, she came to the conclusion that this was, in fact, not a dream. This was actually happening. She racked her brain for something to say, but Sherlock became nervous at her prolonged silence and took it as a bad sign.

"I'm sorry, I don't have to." He started to retract his arms, but Molly stopped him.

"No, it's alright. I understand." She tried to explain it off, to make herself feel better about this, but she couldn't seem to get rid of the nagging guilt she felt whenever she thought of Tom. Eventually, he past feelings bubbled up and stopped her argument once and for all. It was just this weekend, she would be back with Tom in a day or two.

Sherlock was relieved to hear Molly consent to his actions. Sighing slightly, he felt her relax in his arms, and fall asleep. He, too, found sleep relatively quickly, and before he knew it he was dreaming of Molly.

**{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{S H}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH} {SH}{SH}**

**Well, that's the end of chapter two. There's one more chapter, and then I think I'm done! If you liked it, tell me in the form of a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't have much to say, except that I'm really pumped for the next episode of SHERLOCK! Anyways, enjoy this chapter! **

**AGAIN: I don't own Sherlock! :( **

**{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{S H}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH} {SH}{SH}**

Molly woke up to a surprisingly cold bed, considering what had happened the night before. She blushed slightly at the thought of Sherlock's words. Did he worry about her? Sitting up and stretching she wondered why she hadn't heard Stephanie at all this morning. She slipped out of bed, and walked to the empty crib. Slightly confused and worried, she made her way to the living room. With a sigh of relief she saw that Sherlock had Stephanie safely snuggled in his arms.

"Morning, Sherlock."

"Mmm." He barely acknowledged her from his spot on the couch. Obviously thinking about a case or something.

Molly thought it would be best to act like nothing had happened last night unless Sherlock brought it up, so she simply went about her morning routine. Just as she was about to pour herself a bowl of cereal, Sherlock spoke up.

"There's french toast sitting in the covered pan on the oven."

"Oh, okay. Thanks, Sherlock." To say that Molly wasn't taken aback at this would be a lie. Sherlock could cook? And since when did her cook for others?

She was, however, delighted to find that the french toast was cooked to perfection, not burnt in the slightest, and it smelled fantastic. She briefly wished Tom could cook, but then berated herself. Tom was perfect, and she shouldn't complain, he tried so hard to make her happy and that as all that mattered. Sherlock observed as Molly put a few slices on a plate and sat down to eat. He was satisfied that this morning was going according to plan.

Molly managed to relax, if only for a few minutes, for the first time in a long time. She had forgotten how nice it was to have someone cook for you.

Soon after breakfast, Sherlock hurriedly handed Stephanie to Molly and went to his lab. A little disappointed, Molly set to entertaining Steph, while half-watching whatever crap telly was on.

Up in the lab, Sherlock sat contemplating the morning. He had slept very well after his brief conversation with Molly. Cooking had been a challenge, but with a little advice from Mrs. Hudson he managed. He was saddened at the thought of John coming to pick Stephanie up later today because it meant that Molly, too, would leave. Yes, Molly would go back home to Tom he scoffed.

Not even bothering with his experiments, he walked back to the living room only to find that it was empty. Perhaps they had left on a walk again. He quickly threw on his coat and scarf and hurried out the door. Much to his relief, Molly had only just left. He hastened to catch up to them as they turned to corner.

"Molly, just wait a minute."

She turned around, "Oh, Sherlock! I didn't realize. I thought you'd want to work on your experiments, I didn't want to bother you."

"No, it's no bother. A little fresh air always helps me think."

They walked in awkward silence for some time, neither wanting to talk about what had happened. The tension between them was palpable and ever-increasing.

Molly was tense, and Sherlock could sense that. He himself was thinking of a way to correctly state what he was trying to say. Without previous thought he would almost definitely insult her. Letting his mouth go was not a good idea with a situation this delicate.

"Molly, I feel I must explain my actions from the other night. I sincerely hope you were not misguided."

"Sherlock, I don't think... You don't need to, um, explain. I understand." Slightly relieved that perhaps his intentions were entirely pure, but slightly disappointed Molly sighed.

"No, I feel I must explain. Since we first met I have known you to be of excellent help, always willing. Recently you have helped me with things I thought I was alone in." Molly tried to interrupt, but Sherlock held up a hand. "Please let me finish. I know I have not always been the most grateful for everything you have done for me, however I would like to thank you for all your help." He paused, "It had also previously come to my attention that you were, shall we say, infatuated with me."

Molly waited with bated breath for Sherlock to continue.

"I have often claimed to be completely without emotions, as they are a hindrance to my work. However, you have some qualities I feel are very commendable. You're not an idiot like some people I know, and you have become considerably more tolerable since you have stopped stuttering. Additionally, I have found that you now have a full room in my mind palace, which is surprising, considering no one has their own room. Because of all this, I conclude that to have an emotional attachment to you, as I have found I do, would not be completely unwarranted." He finished, and waited expectantly for Molly to say something.

Much to his distress, she simply started crying instead. He stopped walking as Molly came to a jarring halt beside him. He gingerly took Stephanie from her arms, and awkwardly wrapped his free arm around her, drawing her close. He had seen John comfort Mary similarly. He could feel his shirt becoming wet with her tears, but he couldn't bring himself to be disgusted.

After a few moments, Molly looked up at him, through tear-stained eyes. "Sherlock, I can't do this, I'm engaged to Tom now! I swore off my feelings for you after you left." Molly was on the verge of tears again, but she pushed through them, "I'm sorry Sherlock, but it wouldn't be right. I...I just can't."

Molly was conflicted. She was soon to be married, and yet, now that Sherlock had said all this, she was seriously reconsidering her feelings. She had always been rather judgmental of Tom, but she had always pushed it aside because of the fact that he was nice, and was showing an interest in her. For a while, he even made her forget about Sherlock. But now that he was back, Tom had been competing in her mind for first place in her heart.

Sherlock could sense Molly's inner turmoil, "I'm sorry, Molly. I didn't mean to upset you. Please forgive me. Forget I ever said anything." He took a step back looked away from Molly, not knowing what to do in a situation like this. He waited for her to do something to indicate how he should proceed.

"No," Molly managed to sniff out.

Sherlock looked at Molly again, a slight resemblance of hope in his eyes. He waited as she took a breath to calm herself. She would speak when she was ready, this he had learned from previous mistakes.

With a heavy breath, Molly started, "This isn't fair to Tom. I had been in love with you for years, and you never once showed a slight preference toward me unless you needed something desperately. When you left to take down Moriarty's network, I gave you up. I moved on. And just when something in my life was going right, you had to turn up and say something like that to me! I need to know how you feel Sherlock, before I make a big mistake and give up the best man that has ever happened to me, for false hope!" She was glad o have finally gotten that off her chest. Taking in a shaky breath, she waited for him to absorb everything she had said.

Seconds ticked by that felt like hours to Molly as she tried to anticipate his response. She prepared herself for a let down. Obviously everything she just said would scare him off the idea of a relationship with her.

Sherlock processed this information and quickly formulated a reply, "I'm sure from my previous sentiments you know how I feel." He briefly smirked down at her, "However, if I must say it plainly, I will. Molly Hooper," He took her hand in his, " I love you."

There, he thought, that should help her make up her mind. And if not, he supposed he could always point out the blatant flaws in her fiance. But, in John's words, that would be a bit not good.

Molly stood in front of Sherlock awestruck. In all her years of knowing Sherlock, she never thought she would hear those words come out of his mouth. But here they were. Not being able to properly say something with completely stumbling over her words, Molly simply smiled up at him. Not anticipating his actions, she was completely taken aback when Sherlock leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to hers. It was brief, but it was enough for Molly at that moment.

She realized that this meant she would have to break it off with Tom. She felt marginally guilty, but found comfort in the fact that she was no longer leading him into a life where he would be miserable with a wife that loved another man. Putting it all off for later, she looked up at Sherlock and smiled.

Taking her hand in his, Sherlock led Molly back to the flat. Once inside, Sherlock put a sleeping Stephanie in her crib. He returned to find Molly pacing back and forth. She stopped and looked up when she noticed him standing close by.

"I just phoned Tom. We're going to meet up at a coffee shop close to his work in a few minutes. I figured I should let him know right away."

Sherlock nodded in agreement, and settled down into his chair as Molly forced on her shoes. When she left, Sherlock suddenly felt nervous. He chocked it all up to sentiment, scoffing at his own emotions. Of course everything would be fine, he had nothing to worry about. But as minutes passed, Sherlock could no longer stand it. He already knew what coffee shop they would be at, so he quickly threw on his scarf and Belstaff, grabbed Stephanie from her crib, and walked to the shop. Stopping just across the street, he watched as Molly sat in a booth with Tom. He watched on as she proceeded to explain everything, and he saw her place the ring in his hand and walk out with tears in her eyes.

He crossed the street quickly and joined Molly on the path, reassuringly putting an arm around her shoulders. She jumped a little, but relaxed when she realized it was only Sherlock.

When she had finally gained control of her emotions, Molly spoke up, "It went okay, I suppose. Tom took it fairly well, considering. He said that he knew when I put the wedding off for so long. Every time he asked me I tried to avoid it. I guess he felt like it was going to come up eventually. Oh, Sherlock! I feel so terrible!"

Sherlock felt inept at trying to comfort Molly, so he simply held her tighter with his free arm. It was when Stephanie had started crying that both were broken out of their reverie.

Confused, Sherlock asked, "What's wrong?"

Molly sighed, "You forgot to put her coat on, and its freezing outside! We need to get home quickly, we don't want her getting sick."

"Nonsense, Molly. I can hold her inside my coat. My body heat should warm her up quickly."

So it was with agility that Sherlock gently swaddled Stephanie into his side, warmly snuggled in his coat. When he noticed Molly had no coat on either and was shivering, he opened his coat up for her. Taking his cue, she tucked herself in his coat, under his arm. She wrapped an arm around his waist, and softly sighed in contentment. Sherlock unknowingly had a small smile on his face, but Molly caught a glimpse of it before he resumed his usual impassive expression.

The walk back to the flat was tranquil, and it gave Molly time to think about everything that had happened the last few days. She could no longer delude herself into thinking this was merely a dream. What would her friends and family say? They all knew Sherlock to be aloof and rude towards her. What would they think of his sudden change of heart?

Sherlock had a similar line of thinking. He knew his parents would willingly accept Molly, they were always pushing the idea on him anyways. Mycroft, however, was another thing entirely. He was the one who always warned him against sentiment. John and Mary would be pleased, shocked at first, but pleased nonetheless. He could practically hear John congratulating him on acquiring a heart, and swearing he knew it would happen one day. Sherlock rolled his eyes at the thought. It was just his luck that as soon as they strolled up to the door Doctor and Mrs Watson would approach it as well.

"Oh, Sherlock! Good. Mary and I just got...sorry, is that Molly?"

Molly ducked out of Sherlock's grasp and shyly waved at them, "Yes. Hello. I forgot my coat, so... Sorry, you're probably not concerned about me."

"Ah, yes. Here." Sherlock untucked Stephanie from his coat and handed her to Mary. Mary happily coddled the baby in her arms.

"Um, Sherlock?" John cleared his throat very loudly and motioned with his eyes toward Molly.

Obviously ignoring his prompting, Sherlock replied. "Yes, John?"

"Care to do some explaining? And don't give me that look."

"What look?"

"The look that says 'we both know nothing needs to be explained'. Because you have a lot of explaining to do."

He sighed, "If I must. Though I thought it was blatantly obvious, even to you." He cleared his throat and hastily explained, "Molly has ended things with Tom. Unfortunately it wasn't working out. Her and I are now in some semblance of a relationship, though we have yet to discuss it entirely. The only thing we have discussed is how I," he stopped and a slight blush graced his cheeks.

"How you feel about her." Sherlock looked up at the sound of Mary finishing his sentence. "Oh that's wonderful! I mean, I'm sorry about Tom, but it was never going to work anyways." Sherlock was liking Mary more and more as time passed, and this was one of those moments when he entirely appreciated her.

Sherlock heard Molly sigh in relief. Obviously she was concerned about how people would react to the her ending one very serious relationship and jumping into another one.

"Yes, well that, as they say, is that. Now if you'll excuse us, it looks like Molly is getting-" he was cut off by a bone-crushing hug from John. Sherlock managed to huff out, "John, if you would kindly extricate yourself from my person."

"Right, sorry. I'm just, really happy for you. I know you thought I couldn't see, but I remember how lonely you looked at our wedding. You were scared things would change. And you were right, they have changed a bit. This thing you have going on now with Molly though, it's good."

Before John could say and embarrass Sherlock any more, Mary spoke up again. "We really are happy for you Sherlock. But, if you do anything, even the tiniest little thing, to make Molly even the tiniest bit unhappy, I will personally come and wring your neck." Her countenance quickly changed to that of a smile. "Anyways, we best get going. We'll see you both soon."

Much to Sherlock's relief, the awkward confrontation was over. He could now relax for the evening. "Shall we head inside then, Molly?"

She nodded her head and shivered. Sherlock took her hand and quickly led her up the stairs and into the flat so she could warm up. He made sure Molly was comfortably wrapped in a blanket on the couch before putting the kettle on. Molly watched happily from her position as Sherlock darted around the kitchen. In a few moments Sherlock had returned with two cups of tea. Placing one in front of Molly, he sat down beside her, his own cup still in his right hand. Molly grabbed her own tea from off the coffee table and snuggled into Sherlock whilst sipping from the piping hot mug.

After finishing their tea in companionable silence, Molly stood up, unsure of herself. Now that they were completely alone, she was starting to regain her self-consciousness. She stood awkwardly for a moment, deciding what to do. In that moment, Sherlock stood up to face her. She looked down at her feet, but looked up when she felt his forefinger lifting her chin. Their eyes locked, and it was then that she knew everything would work out. Even though she had thought up so many potential problems, they all vanished with that one reassuring look.

Sherlock dipped his head down to Molly's level slowly. Their faces so close that he could feel her breaths become short and rapid, much like he assumed his was. He took a moment to memorize every inch of Molly's face in this second; Her dilated pupils, her partially opened mouth, her freckled nose, all things he had seen before but never observed. As he got closer, he watched as her eyes fluttered shut. He put a hand behind her neck and drew her close, his own eyes shutting of their own accord as he closed the short distance between their mouths.

It was everything Molly had dreamed it would be, and she still couldn't believe that their relationship had come this far. She let out a sigh, and slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. She ran her fingers through his soft, curly hair, only to become tangled. The resulting tug occasioned a moan to emit from Sherlock's throat. He ran a hand from her shoulder, down her arm, and eventually came to rest it on her waist. He pulled her flush against him, and Molly mewled in surprise. He took this opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. Molly moaned, and tugged on his hair again, this time Sherlock growled. Molly pulled herself up to try to get closer, and squeaked when Sherlock lifted her up off the ground, but responded by wrapping her legs around his waist. For a brief minute, she wondered where Sherlock had learned to kiss, but lost the thought as she gave in to the passion and the heat of the moment. He ran a hand up her spine, and smiled into the kiss at the resulting shivers Molly got.

Not wanting to take it too far on their first night together, Molly separated from Sherlock. Sherlock groaned in exasperation at the loss of contact, and Molly let out a small giggle. She quickly pecked him on the lips again before sauntering off to bed. Confused and frustrated, Sherlock stood capturing this experience in his mind palace for later review. Hoping to move on to something more exciting, he turned out the lights in the living room and walked into the bedroom, only to find Molly asleep under the covers, her clothing discarded on the floor. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair before stripping of his shirt and trousers and climbing into bed beside her. He pulled Molly close into his side, and kissed her forehead. Knowing Molly was his, and was safe he drifted into sleep.

**{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}{SH}**

**YAY! The story is finished! What did you think? Let me know! I wasn't too sure about the ending... Anyways. Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated! I hope you all had as much fun reading this as I did writing it! Stay tuned, I may write more Sherlolly stories soon! Any ideas/prompts for a story? Put it in your review!**


End file.
